


Scenario 18

by rideswraptors



Series: Kastle Scenarios [18]
Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, see first work for warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 21:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rideswraptors/pseuds/rideswraptors
Summary: David was trying so hard not to laugh that he was almost choking. Watching Frank Castle squirm was the highlight of his whole damn year. The motherfucker was so smooth and cocky, acting like he had all of his shit together. Mention Karen even vaguely and he cracked like a rotten egg in July.





	Scenario 18

_ You gonna tell me how Karen Page fits into all of this? _

 

_ Nope. _

 

_ Right. _

  
  


David Lieberman was decidedly not stupid. He would be long dead by now if he was. So whenever Frank Castle fed him bullshit about why or how Karen fit into the grand scheme of his impossible situation, David just didn’t buy it. No matter what they did, where they went, how they did it, Karen cropped up  _ everywhere. _ And Frank reacted to it every damn time. So, no, the brush-offs weren’t cutting it anymore. David wanted to understand what the heck was going on with his bosom buddy and this woman who seemed to be a ticking time bomb, chaos magnet, and brilliant researcher all rolled into one. He’d only seen a few pictures of her. Couple of video shots. He knew she was gorgeous, but it still didn’t explain Frank’s defensiveness. Didn’t explain his rage when Lewis targeted her. 

 

When Rawlins was dead, Russo was locked up, and he was back with his family, David had fully expected Frank to bolt in the direction of Karen Page. When he didn’t, David was weirdly disappointed. 

 

What he did do was hang around their house far too much. He kept...fixing things. They needed fixing and David was hella grateful, but it was starting to grate on his goddamn nerves. He would be there, whenever he got off work, offered to run errands, pick up the kids, make dinner. It was a big help to him and Sarah, definitely gave them some much needed alone time. But even Sarah agreed: he was avoiding moving on with his own life. For whatever reason, he was avoiding this Karen Page.

 

He kept her monitor on, kept watch over it. Frank had given him a color system. White-1, Pink-2, Yellow-3, Red-4. Naturally, Frank didn’t feel the need to explain what the system meant or why it was in place. All he knew was that white flowers were good, red were bad. It couldn’t have been an emergency thing cause who stops to buy flowers in an emergency? Still. He reported back three times a day. Just a text to a burner phone with the number, or a comment in person. Cause you know, he was always at their damn house. 

 

David was sitting in his bolthole, bored out of his mind, doing some basic contract work for some corporation who paid him way too much considering his lack of dedication to their cause. He looked over at the monitor. The Heart Monitor, he called it, very quietly in his head where Frank would never find out. There were no flowers in the window, which wasn’t entirely typical, actually. Karen always kept flowers of some kind in the window, even David knew that. 

 

Instead, Karen was the one in the window. It was wide open and she was stretched out along the sill, drinking coffee or tea. 

 

“She’s beautiful,” came his wife’s voice from behind him. He jumped slightly, still not totally accustomed to her presence in his space. Her hands came to his shoulders, one slid up his neck, fingers sinking into his hair. 

 

“Yes, she is,” he agreed. “Our boy just so happens to be obsessed with her. Hence the monitor.” 

 

“Ah,” was her lovely response, as if it were totally normal. He’d married a fantastic woman. She leaned forward, head tilting to get a better look. “She seems sad.” 

 

David snorted, “Probably as miserable as good ol’ Petey.” 

 

“What’s their deal, anyway?” 

 

This was the moment he’d been waiting for.

 

He slammed a hand down on the table, “ _ The deal is nobody goes after her, okay? Not on my watch! _ ”

 

Sarah shoved at him, “What the fuck, Dave?” She smacked the back of his head.

 

“Ow! Damn, woman! I was quoting Pete! That’s what he said when I asked him that.” 

 

“Oh. Damn. That’s pretty incredible. I mean, Pete’s an intense guy, but...what’s so special about her?” 

 

“Dunno. Won’t tell me shit. Nearly got himself killed for her two or three or twenty times.” 

 

Sarah didn’t respond to that, but her voice got much softer. Her fingers drifted over the screen. 

 

“What’s her name?” 

 

“Karen. Karen Page.”

 

“The reporter?” 

 

“Damn good one, too. Shoulda heard her defending Pete on the radio. I mean, dude kills over 40 people, maybe more, and this woman rips into a senator for comparing him to that Lewis guy. Just ferocious.”

 

He saw his wife’s wry grin. “I like her already. You met her?”

 

“Nope. Won’t even tell me how he knows her.” 

 

“So he loves her, protects her, keeps watch over her, and what? Let’s her be alone like this?”

 

“Don’t think he sees it like that, m’dear.” 

 

“How else can he possibly see it? I know exactly how she feels. Except she probably feels worse because even if my heart was broken, at least it was because I thought you were gone. And not by choice.” 

 

“I don’t know what to tell you, Sarah. He just--he thinks he has to keep her safe. I can only assume he means from himself, too.”

 

“I can’t accept that! He told me that to get through the grief, you have to find something you care about. He told me he’d thought he found that thing. If that’s her--if that’s this woman, then he is damn well going to do something about it!” 

 

She stormed off, still raging to herself, snapping at Zach as she went by and slamming doors. David shuddered and turned back to his monitors. And he’d thought Frank had it bad with the CIA coming after him. CIA didn’t have shit on Sarah Lieberman. 

 

*

 

Frank didn’t feel like reliving his argument with Sarah. Needless to say, it hadn’t gone well. That woman was a shitstorm on wheels with cutting insight and a near-perfect memory. He’d be wincing from that verbal assault for days. 

 

That didn’t mean he agreed with her. 

 

There was no reason, at all, for him to pull Karen back into his life. Okay, fine, there were a  _ couple _ of reasons, but they did not outweigh his motivations for staying away from her. She deserved a life without bullets raining down on her head, without the looming threat of Frank’s misdeeds over her shoulder. She deserved more than a beat up, broken man with nothing to offer. Sarah had nearly slapped him for that one, reminded him what century it was, and all but bodily-placed him into his truck. 

 

On that count, Sarah was right. Karen had the right to decide what she deserved, what she wanted. It wasn’t Frank’s call. Even if he was right, too. He just couldn’t stand the thought of facing her, getting rejected, and losing her trust in him. Karen could put a bullet in him and leave him for dead, and he’d still watch out for her. Because Frank knew she’d have a damn good reason to do it. He probably would have agreed. He just didn’t want her to think--

 

His train of thought cut off when he saw a vase of white flowers in the window. They’d come up with a system. Red meant she thought she might be in trouble, someone was following her, or she was about to cause a shitstorm with an article. Yellow meant she thought he was in danger, or she’d heard something about him or the Punisher. Pink meant she had a lead or some angle she needed help with. And white? 

 

White meant all was fine. White meant she wanted to see him. 

 

He’d not seen her in person for some time. Not since he’d first been released from the hospital, leaving Russo in his wake. Instead of facing her, he’d left a white rose on her desk, just to let her know he was safe. How in the hell flowers had become their primary means of communication, he had no fucking idea, but there it was. David had told him Karen hadn’t had flowers in the window for a couple of days. But there they were. Fresh and white in a black vase. Totally unmistakable. 

 

Well, he thought miserably, at least he had an excuse to see her.    

 

Frank didn’t even get to knock on the door before Karen was flinging it open and launching herself into his arms. He intercepted her with a grunt, his brain trying to catch up with what was happening with his body. Before he could process just holding her, Karen was pulling him into her apartment and locking several deadbolts behind him. Good girl, he thought absently. Wait--

 

“How did you even know I was here?” he asked, bewildered. Karen dragged a hand through her hair, pushing it back as she moved around him, seeming to be checking for any injuries. Had she always done that? 

 

“Micro,” she answered absently. “He sent some guys over to install security cameras all over the building.”

 

“Lieberman did that,” the son of a bitch. “Didn’t mention it.” 

 

She shrugged and cleared her throat, taking a step back from him, seemingly satisfied that he was whole and hale. Shit, she looked good. Cuts on her face had cleared up, but she looked like she wasn’t sleeping much. A thought that had him taking a step toward her. 

 

“Are you--?” 

 

“I was just making dinner,” she interrupted, gesturing toward the kitchen. “Hungry?” 

 

He watched her move past him, jarred at the sudden switch in mood. First, she couldn’t seem to keep her hands off him, then she couldn’t get far enough away from him. He pushed a breath through his lips and cracked his neck; it was his own damn fault that she didn’t know how to act around him. He’d made things much harder than strictly necessary where she was concerned. Fuck, Sarah had been right. This was long overdue. 

 

“Karen--” he started, making slow progress in her direction. 

 

“That lead you fed me on the cartel operating out of those churches turned up plenty of dirt. I have an interview with the archbishop next week. Isn’t that nuts?” 

 

Frank sighed and decided to take a seat. Waiting was something he could do. For her. For now.

 

“That’s great.”

 

She shot a half smile over at him and kept talking, like they saw each other every day and he knew all the names of her co-workers. She plated him dinner and got him a beer, all without asking him a single question. And what he’d ever done to be allowed in her space was incomprehensible to him. 

 

They kept eating dinner. She kept talking. Frank kept waiting.

 

When they were finished with dinner, Karen pulled him over to the couch, showing him a few of the stories she was planning on. He had a few thoughts about a couple of them, especially where her safety was concerned. She essentially laughed at him, not at all put off by the idea of CEOs and mobsters putting out hits on her. 

 

“I got targeted and taken hostage by a bomber, Frank. This is like...peanuts.”

 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” 

 

“Yeah, well, the guy who sneaks into my office on occasion without so much as leaving a note doesn’t get a say in my decision-making.” 

 

Frank smiled ruefully with a slow shake of his head. “There she is. Was wondering.” 

 

Karen flushed, seemed pleased with that response, but not at all put off. She just  _ looked _ at him, like she always did, like she was trying to puzzle him out but something didn’t quite fit the way she wanted. She reached for the glass of wine she’d poured but left untouched and took a sip. Hard not to watch her. Then she did that thing where she looked down, her hair falling like a curtain, closing off her face to him. When she looked at him again, all he found was a mirror and nothing of Karen. Hated when she did that. 

 

Her throat worked hard when she opened her mouth. Only a breath came out at first. But something seemed to light a fire under her ass because her cheeks tinged and her eyes flashed like they had in the prison.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

He sniffed. “Lieberman’s mostly.”

 

She nodded. “They know that?”

 

That made him laugh. “Yes, Karen, they know.” 

 

She seemed to take that into prolonged consideration before sipping at her wine again. Liquid fortitude, he guessed.

 

“Should I bother asking why?” 

 

He looked at his hands. “Probably won’t like the answer much.” 

 

“Have you been going out?” 

 

“Nah. Homeland’s watching me pretty close right now. Waiting for a slip-up, I guess.” 

 

“Are you going to start going out?” 

 

“Yes.”

 

His answer was unwavering. He had to be clear. She had to see and understand him perfectly if he was going to let her make the decision. He rolled his eyes at himself; Karen would make the decision with or without him. She was picking at the hem of his shirt, eyes not meeting his. The whole time he’d been there, she’d managed to move back into his sphere to keep hold of him somehow. Almost like she was worried he wasn’t real. Or that he’d vanish. He had to admit, both of those things were how he operated. 

 

“Does that mean I have to keep using the flowers?” 

 

Truthfully, he’d expected something more pointed. He’d expected her to hurl accusations at him, make demands, give ultimatums. She’d done it before.  _ Do this and you’re dead to me _ . Had she said it because she was desperate or because she thought she could change him? Was this her giving up on that? Frank wasn’t sure what to believe on that front. A defeated Karen Page was not something he looked forward to.

 

“Where’s your phone?” he asked hoarsely. That got her attention. She lifted her head up fully, eyes locked on his for a long moment. Then she was getting up and going into the kitchen, bringing back her phone to him. Without a second thought, he was plugging his number into it and handing it back. Her lips quirked.

 

“Pete?” 

 

“An unfortunate part of Homeland’s deal.” 

 

“I am not calling you that,” she said, placing her phone on the coffee table. 

 

“Please don’t.” 

 

It pulled a real laugh from her and Frank was stupidly pleased about it. Couldn’t say why, exactly, just that it was nice to hear. Maybe he was just feeling guilty, but he didn’t think so. Not when that stupid glint in her eye made his heart clench tight. She was back to looking at her hands. 

 

“When am I gonna see you again?” Her voice was whisper soft. Less commanding than it had been the first time she’d asked him that question. Less tormented. In all fairness, that first time she’d thought he was walking off to go kill someone she’d helped him find. Must have torn her up to actually  _ want _ to see him. But he understood. He understood that twisted feeling of caring about a person who hurt you.  _ You had us _ . Frank shook it off. Ghosts and specters. 

 

“Whenever you want,” he answered firmly, leaving no room for doubts in her head. He said it and he meant it, and he was going to follow through on it. In whatever capacity she chose.  _ Be present _ , Sarah had snapped at him,  _ just show up! _ Frank was going to follow that rule until he couldn’t physically do it anymore. Because Karen deserved whatever she wanted, and she would have him in whatever sense she wanted. Even if he was just some guy who showed up with flowers and a shotgun sometimes. 

 

She’d taken his hand in hers and was tracing the lines and ridges. It felt unbearable, the tension of being so close and having no idea what she was thinking. How she felt about any of it. His stomach was twisted up in knots, but he couldn’t make himself leave. Couldn’t make himself put distance between them. He didn’t  _ want _ to. 

 

Nearly broke him when she bent to kiss the back of his hand. 

 

“Meet me after work tomorrow?” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

*

 

David Lieberman was decidedly not stupid. He knew that Sarah had ripped Frank a new one about his goings on with Karen Page. Not that anyone deigned to inform him of the results. Regardless, he knew that  _ something _ had happened because all of the sudden Frank was “busy” in the evenings. Not like...midnight-evenings, like 5:30 or 6:00 evenings. When normal humans got off work and went out on dates and shit. Frank never told him where he went or even mentioned her name, but David fucking knew it was all about Karen. 

 

Everything was all about Karen. 

 

Frank was suspiciously present on a Sunday afternoon when David’s brilliant, beautiful, and most excellent daughter nailed him down for an interrogation. Frank had started to arrive later and later on Sundays for dinner instead of spending the whole damn day fixing things around the house. This time, though, he’d shown up at 4:00 and offered to tune up Sarah’s car. David went outside to keep him company, and Leo tagged along because she wanted to know about every single thing Uncle Pete-related.

 

Frank was under the hood when she asked.

 

“Uncle Pete, do we get to meet your girlfriend soon?” 

 

Frank banged his head against the hood and David’s spit take was of epic proportions. Damn waste of good beer, though. Frank leaned out, glaring at him, and then pointed his wrench in Leo’s direction. 

 

“Who said I have a girlfriend?” 

 

Leo shrugged, nonplussed. “Mom. She says that you’re busy now because of your girlfriend, but you don’t talk about her and we haven’t met her so that’s weird.” 

 

David was trying so hard not to laugh that he was almost choking. Watching Frank Castle squirm was the highlight of his whole damn  _ year _ . The motherfucker was so smooth and cocky, acting like he had all of his shit together. Mention Karen even vaguely and he  _ cracked _ like a rotten egg in July. Frank squinted at her.

 

“Yer mother needs to stop her gossiping.”

 

“It’s not gossip,” Leo insisted obstinately. “She was just stating facts since  _ you _ didn’t tell us.” 

 

Frank frowned and turned back to the car. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

 

“So who are you with all the time, then?” she followed up instantly. David covered his eyes with a hand and silently thanked every entity in existence for this moment because if there was one thing Frank Castle wouldn’t do, it was hurt or yell at a child. Leo was a gift and he was buying her a mountain bike like she wanted. Hell, she could have three!

 

“Friend,” Frank grunted. David smirked.

 

“So she  _ is _ a friend.” 

 

“Shut up, Lieberman.”

 

Leo cocked her head. “Do you spend a lot of time together?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Do you eat dinner together?” 

 

Frank sighed. “Yes.”

 

“Does she call you to check in?” Leo must have taken his wordless grunt as an affirmative. “Does she hold your hand or your arm when you walk somewhere?” David didn’t see or hear an answer to that. “Do you want to kiss her?” Jesus christ, his kid went for the jugular. David was too busy getting his breath back to pay attention to that answer. 

 

“Sorry, dude, that’s a girlfriend.”

 

Sorry, dude, that’s a girlfriend?

 

_ Sorry, dude, that’s a girlfriend! _

 

David wasn’t sure he was supposed to have a favorite child, but he definitely had one now. 

 

“Leo,” Frank groused, sounding tired of her shit. David was so not tired of it. He could have listened to her go off forever and ever until Frank’s damn head exploded.

 

“You have a girlfriend,” Leo snapped primly, “and I want to meet her.”

 

“You want to meet her,” Frank echoed dumbly. 

 

“Yeah,” his daughter said folding her arms. “I want to meet her. Or you can’t come to my play.” 

 

_ Oh snap _ . Frank had been helping Leo rehearse her lines for the school play for weeks. He’d actually looked like he was going to cry when she all but demanded he come watch her perform. Kid was vicious. He’d obviously raised her right. Frank was looking at him now, but David was stubbornly staring at his thighs, bouncing his leg and hand over his mouth to hide his shit-eating grin so that he didn’t get a black eye or worse. It’s not like he’d put her up to it. Leo went rogue all the time, especially where her Uncle Pete was concerned. David had no control of his children, duh.  

 

Frank’s defeated, “Fine,” was probably the sweetest sound David had ever heard in his stupid life.

 

*

 

This was such a bad idea. Frank knew it. David knew it. Hell, Karen probably knew it. But David hadn’t been the one to ask. Sarah didn’t even ask. Nope, it was  _ Leo _ of all fucking people, the one person he couldn’t say no to. Because there was no maliciousness there, no ulterior motives, no amusement; just curiosity and blatant favoritism. She just wanted to meet the person who was important to him. It was as sweet as it was infuriating. 

 

So he had to ask. He’d only promised that he would ask, not that she would actually come. Karen was a busy woman with an important job that was time-consuming and had a complicated schedule. Even Sunday dinner wasn’t a given. 

 

He was at her office (Ellison had finally given her, her own office with a door that locked and everything) helping her assemble an extra bookcase when he decided to ask. He’d waited two weeks because it took that long to work up enough nerve to ask her. Which was stupid. He’d fought in a war. Took down mobsters and criminals, sometimes with his bare hands. He spent a good portion of his free time with this woman and he couldn’t muster up enough grit to ask her to meet his friends. Pathetic.

 

(It did occur to him in that moment, that Maria and her girlfriends had once discussed how a man putting together your furniture meant you were in a relationship. He’d dismissed it as ridiculous at the time because he didn’t know a lot of men who’d randomly put together furniture anyway. Maria told him he was the exception rather than the rule and not to worry about the complexities of wooing women. She was probably laughing at him now, and he’d wished he’d paid a little more attention. Hindsight and all that.)

 

“Got a question for you…” he started dully. 

 

“This is not English. I don’t know who wrote it, but it’s not in English,” she was still babbling furiously and he shook his head, diligently putting the pieces together without the instructions anyway. “Yeah, sorry. Shoot.” She turned the booklet in her hands, tilting her head. That definitely would help. 

 

“Leo wants to meet you.” 

 

She froze. “Leo? Lieberman?”

 

“That’s the one.” 

 

“She told you she wants to meet me,” she reiterated.

 

“In no uncertain terms.” 

 

She slumped in her seated position, letting her hands and the booklet drop to her lap. “Huh,” was her thoughtful follow up. Frank inhaled slowly, trying to get a grip. Super pathetic. 

 

“Yeah, the little shit made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.” 

 

“But why--?”

 

He cut that train of thought off right quick.

 

“Sarah offered to invite you to dinner on Sunday. I usually go over there around 6. Nothing special. I know you’ve got deadlines…”

 

“I’ll go.”

 

He paused and looked up at her. “Really?” 

 

“Yeah,” her answer was a bit breathless and he twitched for it, feeling a little hot under the collar. She was probably just pleased to be asked since she’d been an integral part in bringing the Liebermans back together. “They’re like family to you. Of course I’ll go.” 

 

And wasn’t that a kick in the gut? 

 

“Sunday at 6?” she asked.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

“Okay.” 

 

Their eyes lingered on each other a few seconds too long to be comfortable before he looked back at the piece he was holding and realized that not only was it damaged, but the dimensions were off. He tossed it back in the pile.

 

“Fuck this, I’ll just build you one.” 

 

Karen snorted.    

 

*

 

“Uncle  _ Pete _ !” came a shriek from the doorway. A thirteen-year-old girl with wild brown hair came flying down the driveway to fling herself at Frank. He caught her mid-jump and spun her around. When he set her down on the ground again, she flung her arms around his waist and beamed up at him. “You’re late,” she informed him sassily. 

 

Frank just ruffled her hair. “You live here, I’m early. Brat.” 

 

She immediately brightened when she caught sight of Karen, eyes wide and smile bright. She bounced on the balls of her feet without letting go of Frank. 

 

“You brought her! You didn’t tell me you were bringing her!” Karen laughed when the girl weakly sucker punched him for his betrayal before bounding over to her. “Are you Karen? You have to be Karen.” She held out her hand. “I’m Leo. Lieberman.” 

 

Karen shook her hand, trying not to chuckle at her excitement.

 

“Nice to meet you, Leo. I’m--”

 

“Karen Page,” she inserted, “Bulletin Reporter. I know. I’ve read all of your stuff.” She grabbed her hand. “You’re really smart, but you’d have to be. Obviously…” She kept babbling about everything she knew about Karen as she pulled her along to the door. Karen threw an incredulous look over her shoulder at Frank who was following along with his hands shoved in his pockets. He looked amused, but just shrugged his shoulders and left them to it. Regardless, Karen could hardly keep up with her. 

 

They were barely through the door, when two people, presumably Sarah and David Lieberman, were approaching them while scolding Leo.

 

“Seriously, kid! Let the woman breathe, she just got here!” the man said, moving to take Karen’s coat. “Sorry about that. I’m David, nice to meet you.  _ Finally _ .” Karen met his very mischievous eyes and quirked a grin at him. He lowered his voice. “Pete only talks about you never.” 

 

“Does he?” she asked loudly, whirling on Frank just to get him flustered. He spread his hands in a general  _ what the fuck _ gesture that had her turning back to David to laugh. “But seriously, I owe you a few thank yous about a hundred times over.” 

 

David tipped his head, picked up her hand, and kissed it. 

 

“M’lady, you helped get me my family back, so I will be forever at your service.” 

 

“That really isn’t--” 

 

“Okay,” Frank said gruffly, stepping between them and batting David’s hands away, “that’s enough of that.” Karen did not miss David’s snort. “Karen, Sarah, Sarah, Karen.” 

 

She shook the other woman’s hand, completely incapable of not responding to her warm smile. She was just as kind and lovely as Frank had described her. 

 

“I’m so happy you came,” Sarah gushed, “All that with David aside, Leo is just  _ gaga _ over you at this point.” 

 

“ _ Mom _ !” Leo whined. Frank swatted out at her at the same time David scolded her for being a brat. Karen was sympathetic. She nudged the girl with all due seriousness.

 

“No worries, Fr--Pete talks about you guys all of the time. I’m kinda a fan,” she said it quiet enough that only Leo could really hear, and nodded when the girl blushed. Karen felt Frank’s light squeeze on her hand as a boy, who must have been Zach, came sliding down the banister.

 

“Uncle Pete!”

 

“Zach, what the hell?” David groused. Probably at his reckless behavior on the stairs. Zach didn’t pay him any attention, though. 

 

“Uncle Pete! Guess what? Guess what?” Frank pulled a curious face and tossed his hands in question. “I made  _ first string  _ wide receiver!” 

 

“Eyy, little man, that’s great.” They high fived and Zach was running off again in some unknown direction with Leo quick on his heels. 

 

“ _ Zach _ !” she shrieked, “That’s  _ my _ sweatshirt!” Their parents groaned at his responding  _ not anymore _ and Leo’s infuriated growl. Something got knocked over and hit the floor, making Karen’s brows wing up in startled amusement. 

 

“It’s not broken!” the two kids intoned from the other room. 

 

Sarah just looked at Karen, smiling serenely as if everything was quiet and perfect. 

 

“My children are animals,” she informed her evenly. “I blame David.”

 

“Not cool,” he said, jabbing a finger at her as he went to follow up with the kids. “Pete, be useful and make my dinner.” 

 

“Wall-to-wall asshole, David,” he called after him. David’s only response was a middle finger in the air. Sarah snorted but didn’t argue with her husband’s order. Frank shrugged at her. “It is, actually, my turn.” Karen noted there was a hint of apology there. He tilted his head at her, eyes widening just so, and she answered with a nod. Then he squeezed the crook of her arm, kissed Sarah’s cheek, and evidently went to go make dinner for everyone. 

 

Karen was...floored? 

 

*

 

Sarah watched Karen Page’s reactions to everything happening around her very closely. She’d gotten Frank to open up about her a little, but she was still feeling a little protective. Mentally, she shrugged and figured there was nothing wrong with due diligence.

 

But she was having a hard time finding anything to object to. They just seemed to fit. And Karen was so good and sweet to Leo, who was excited and embarrassed and a teenager all at once. She smiled every time Frank opened his damn mouth. And that little in sync, silent check-in? Yeah, she didn’t miss it. 

 

“That man’s an angel,” Sarah informed her, leaning in just so. “I mean, yeah, he put our family back together, but it’s all the stuff after that meant something.” 

 

Karen’s big blue eyes slid over to her, looking soft around the edges and keen.

 

“Yeah,” she answered softly. “He’s like that.” 

 

“I’m sorry if this, like, too much, but ever since Leo found out about you it’s all she talks about. Honestly, I think she’s a little jealous,” Sarah continued, deliberately threading their arms together so she couldn’t escape. “She’s so used to having all of Pete’s attention, so she’s fascinated with the other woman.” 

 

“Oh, I’m not--” 

 

Sarah chuckled, two peas in a pod, they were. 

 

“Not to mention, she’s obsessed with all things superhero, superhuman, what have you. And your articles on the vigilantes in New York? Just sent her right to the moon. Now she wants to be a reporter and do all this stuff. It’s great to see her excited about something, you know?” 

 

Sarah didn’t give her a chance to correct or interrupt, just kept chattering away about Uncle Pete this and Uncle Pete that, always gauging her response to see if it was good, bad, or other. The poor woman was starting to look a little flustered. In all fairness, she’d probably not been exposed to a domesticated Frank Castle too often. Especially not one interacting with kids. They walked into the kitchen to find Zach watching Frank cook from his perch on the countertop while he was instructing Leo how to chop vegetables properly. Sarah noticed when Karen stopped short, her eyes glued to the scene. It drew out a wry smile from her. 

 

“He’s just so good with them,” Sarah said, feigning wistfulness. “He’s been teaching Leo about the plumbing and electric, and Zach’s finally getting grades above a C. Hasn’t had an outburst in months. Everything’s been so tough on David, and there’s Pete, swooping in like Superman to help him out.” She leaned in closer, and lowered her voice. “Looks damn good in an apron, too.” 

 

Karen swung shocked eyes on her, looking a mix between intrigued and horrified. Sarah chuckled and patted her arm. 

 

“Oh, honey, I knew  _ he _ had it bad…” She let herself trail off, leaving it vague. Karen cleared her throat and shifted her weight. 

 

“Do you happen to have any wine?” she asked tartly, awfully flustered. 

 

“Absolutely.” 

 

*

 

Karen had grossly underestimated her ability to behave normally in the face of Frank Castle cooking dinner and interacting with children.  _ Grossly _ . Sarah’s commentary had not helped in the least. She really could not get worked up watching Frank be domestic while meeting his friends for the first time. So not appropriate. She was mortified. Because Sarah could see right through her, and she had a hint of an impression that she was doing it on purpose. Why? Karen didn’t freaking know, but it was ridiculously uncool. 

 

Instead of torturing her some more, Sarah poured her a glass of wine and gave her a tour of the house. Her questions were minute and totally appropriate, just the normal things you ask strangers visiting your home. Karen was startled to see a picture of Frank with the kids already in a frame. She hadn’t realized how enmeshed he was with this family, no matter how much he talked about them. They clearly loved him just as much. It made her heart ache a little because Frank had once belonged in a family just like theirs. Frank had once let another man into his family, made him a part of their circle, much to their ruin. Maybe this was his way of making amends for that mistake. 

 

Karen was pulled out of her thoughts by loud bickering coming from the two men in the kitchen. Evidently, they had a disagreement over the proper preparation of some element of the meal. Sarah rolled her eyes. 

 

“You would think,” she sighed, “that after spending weeks and weeks together in a bunker, they would be better at communicating.” 

 

Karen huffed. “It’s good for him. It’s not often that anyone disagrees with the Punisher.” 

 

Sarah nodded thoughtfully, her lips twisted up. 

 

“You know, you’re right.” Those lips stretched out into a real smile. “That’s probably why he likes you so much.” 

 

Goddamnit. 

 

*

 

Karen was visibly flustered when she and Sarah came back in the kitchen from their tour of the house. Frank narrowed his eyes at Sarah, suspicious, but the woman just shrugged innocently and pulled a face at him like he was ridiculous. David was still lecturing him on how to make proper stir-fry, but Frank had stopped listening to the asshole before he even started talking.

 

“Must you be such an out of control dick in front of Karen?” he snapped irritably, not at all impressed by his display. David just smiled at him sunnily. 

 

“You want us to make a good impression, don’t you?” was his stupidly smug response to that. “It’s cause you love us so much. It’s cause you lov--” Frank hit him in the shoulder. 

 

“ _ Dick _ ,” he hissed, shoving by to take the food to the table.  

 

“Love you too, Petey.” 

Over dinner is when Leo really let Karen have it with the third degree. Her questions were constant, quick, and shockingly astute. Frank shouldn’t have been so surprised that she’d done her research, but he was really going to have to have a talk with Sarah about  _ boundaries _ . This was such bullshit. 

 

Thankfully, Karen rolled with it. Actually, she seemed to settle much better while answering Leo’s questions. The other three Liebermans kept shooting him weird looks, like they were waiting for him to fly off the handle or do something outrageous, which was  _ rude _ . Zach lifted his brows at him, expectantly. Frank just pinched up his face condescendingly and kept his damn mouth shut. If Karen noticed, she didn’t say anything. 

 

It was difficult not to be annoyed with their current setting. Frank, typically, was used to having Karen’s full attention and not having to share it. Except maybe with work. But even that had been happening less and less. He was also far too used to her touching him, and with the Liebermans, it became painfully obvious how normalized it was. Because Karen was definitely keeping her hands to herself. Frank’s immediate response was to reach out; for her hand, her elbow, her hip. He nudged against her arm or leg to get her attention. It was ridiculous, and he knew Sarah took note of every single time he did it. The impulse felt natural, damn her. And it irked him a little that Karen was paying attention to the fact that they were in mixed company. She was trying to be polite and thoughtful, he knew, but it was  _ annoying _ . He couldn’t entirely stamp down his frustration, which earned him a confused lift of her eyebrow and a questioning downward tug of her lips.

 

But overall, it wasn’t terrible and he didn’t feel like murdering David, so it could be labeled a success by a very generous reviewer. Leo was thrilled and Karen seemed pleased with the whole thing. There wasn’t much to complain about. 

 

Soon enough, though, the kids were being sent up to bed, and the adults were cleaning up the kitchen. Sarah, Karen, and David all nursed glasses of wine, but Frank had refused. He needed to keep a clear head, and he nearly kicked himself for the thought. But it was true. He didn’t want to do anything stupid. 

 

David and Sarah refused to let them do the washing up, but all but forced them to linger while they did it. Frank stood off to the side, arms crossed, listening while the three of them bonded over teasing him. 

 

“...walked in and called my son a wall-to-wall asshole…”

 

“He was, David, and it was your fault.”

 

“Excuse me, I was dead.” 

 

“Such a peach,  _ Pete _ .”

 

“At least he taught Leo to fix the sink. This one calls the plumber.” 

 

“Great, my daughter can fix my house better than me. I’m ecstatic.”

 

“We  _ all _ are.” 

 

The downgraded into a spousal spat, which turned into a quick and merciless sud fight. Frank just shook his head at them. He had a bright flash of a memory of Maria doing that and couldn’t help the smile. When he shook it off to pay attention again, Karen was watching him with her own smile. He had to look away. 

 

“You  _ know _ ,” David said slyly, “Pete, here, has never, not once, told us how you met…” The trailing off was vaguely accusatory and dickish. But Sarah was beaming. 

 

“Yeah! That’s right! How  _ did _ Pete introduce himself, Karen? I mean, he brought me flowers so…”

 

Frank grimaced at Karen’s loud snort. She was holding up an apologetic hand, waving them off, red in the face from laughing. Lord, he was never gonna live this one down. He just lifted his eyes to heaven and prayed for a quick death. 

 

“Sorry,” she spluttered, “the flowers.” She waved her hand again. “Whew, ughhmm, sorry. Uh? Any comments,  _ Pete _ ?” 

 

Every time she said that damn name with a laugh he wanted to kiss the crap out of her. It was getting out of hand. 

 

“Nope,” he answered, not looking at her. 

 

“All right, then.” She cleared her throat again and took a drink. “Well, I was a paralegal for a friend of mine, and he was at the same hospital as one of our clients, who I happened to be visiting.” 

 

“And you what?” David sneered, “Met in the cafeteria?” 

 

That set Karen off again, much to his chagrin. 

 

“Not exactly,” he grumbled. 

 

“ Oh, no, no, no,  _ Pete _ was going after our client and chased us down with a shotgun.” 

 

Dead silence. Fucking--

 

“ _ What _ ?!”

 

“She was completely safe…” Frank drawled uselessly. David and Sarah didn’t even hear him because they were too busy bitching at him, demanding to know why the hell he was so crazy, why would he shoot at poor Karen, who tries to kill somebody in the hospital of all places? Frank just sighed and hung his head, waiting for the shit storm to pass. 

 

He looked up suddenly when he felt Karen’s warmth pressed alongside him. She leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, shoulder pressing into his. He stupidly felt better for it. 

 

“This whole...situation?” David said, gesturing between them, “Suddenly makes much more sense.” 

 

Sarah still looked flabbergasted. “How do you go from being shot at to helping him avoid federal prison?”  Frank felt his head tilt slightly in her direction, completely unconsciously, as he waited for that answer. He’d had a lot of thoughts about that over the last few months, and no good answers. He was too much of a coward to ask her outright. 

 

“He…” Karen’s face turned just so he could see past her profile before she twisted back to look up at Sarah with a shrug. “He asked me to trust him.” 

 

Frank wasn’t sure who was more stunned, him or the Liebermans. They looked at her, mouths slightly ajar and silent, considering. Probably flashing through their first memories of him. Frank felt his cheeks burn. It was nice, not that he would ever admit it, to know someone was willing to admit they were invested in him, trusted him. Cared about him. 

 

Karen shrugged again, “I mean, didn’t you?” 

 

*

 

Karen couldn’t quite believe that she’d stunned her hosts into silence. Frank didn’t seem all that perturbed about it, so when the happily changed the subject, she let it go. People had been questioning her loyalty to and investment in Frank Castle for a long time now. It was nothing new to her. She couldn’t seem to escape those questions, no matter how much distance she got from it. To date, people still asked her about Frank Castle. The world thought he was dead, and they still thought she was some bleeding heart lunatic with a hard on for a mass murderer. She had to admit, there were days when they weren’t wholly incorrect. She just wished it wasn’t so painfully obvious. 

 

The rest of the evening passed quickly and without incident. Before she knew it, the Liebermans were following them out the door, insisting that she had an open invitation to dinner whenever she was able. Karen hugged them both, immensely grateful to both of them for reasons she didn’t care to examine in front of Frank. Frank kissed Sarah’s cheek again and pushed David off of him. But he wasn’t able to escape Leo, who came whirling out of the house like a tornado in pink pajamas. She flung her arms around him, then tugged at his sleeve so that he would bend down so she could whisper something in his ear. Frank looked confused for a moment, but evidently, Leo didn’t care to explain. She hugged Karen around the waist, begged her to come back the next week, and then disappeared into the house. 

 

David shrugged. “That’s my daughter.” 

 

Karen didn’t really have a good response for that, so she didn’t give one. With that, Frank was ushering her into the truck and pulling out of the driveway to get them back to their Hell’s Kitchen reality. 

 

*

 

Frank couldn’t even lie to himself. He was incredibly anxious on the drive home. He’d headbutted Wilson Fisk in jail with his hands cuffed, chained to a cot, and he was still more anxious than that. He’d take Fisk on any day instead of a silent Karen Page. Every time he looked over, she was staring out the window, hand to her face, dead quiet. He wasn’t used to that from her. He was the quiet one. She verbalized everything in her head, or else wrote it down somewhere. Quiet wasn’t her style. But, unsurprisingly, he didn’t want to do or say anything to burst the bubble. If he did, then he would get her opinions, her reactions. 

 

That’s not to say he thought the evening went poorly. It went pretty well. David and Sarah and the kids obviously liked her. She obviously liked them. So if that wasn’t the problem, then there was some other spiral going on in her head which felt like impending doom. 

 

Still. He didn’t want the bubble to burst. So he kept his damn mouth shut. 

 

Frank kept it shut all the way to the street outside of her apartment building, smiling a little to himself when she startled after noticing their arrival right when he cut the engine. But she didn’t seem like she was in a hurry to go anywhere. 

 

“You’ve been quiet,” he commented, ready to hear the worst of it now. At least there was a clear exit route for him. 

 

“Yeah,” she said sheepishly. “Sorry, just...thinking.” 

 

“Kinda figured.” He didn’t mean for it to sound churlish or rude, but it probably came out that way. He’d been stewing in his own nerves for the whole ride, after all. However, he was not expecting Karen’s hand to land on his forearm. Didn’t expect her body to turn toward him, looking sad and a little desperate. His anxiety fled him just like that; Protect Karen Override completely engaged. He covered his hand with hers. “You okay?”

 

She nodded, looking in his direction but not at him. 

 

“I just--they were…” she trailed off and heaved out a sigh. “I haven’t done anything like that...not since my brother.” She shrugged. “It was nice.” 

 

Aaaand now he felt like a tool.  _ Of fucking course _ this wasn’t about him. He’d quite literally murdered people in front of her and Karen had recovered and forgiven him for it. Made him shudder to think what he’d have to do to get her out of his life for real. Not a pleasant thought, really. But she was sad, and he hated that. He stroked a thumb over her hand. 

 

“They really liked you.” 

 

That got him a smile. She dropped her head against the seat. 

 

“They were great. And  _ Leo _ , god is she intense, or what?” 

 

“Reminds me of you, most days.”

 

She hummed, grinning, and lolled her head so that she was looking out the windshield. 

 

“She asked me if I was ever afraid of you.” 

 

“Did she,” Frank said, more of a statement than any question. It was hardly a surprise, as Leo never shied away from uncomfortable discussion topics. Kid had some real grit in her blood. 

 

“Mhmm, I think I disappointed her though.” Her eyes slid back over to him. “Had to say yes just because of our first meeting.” She was smirking now and he scowled.

 

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way. Of all the things I was expecting, I didn’t see that one coming. Threw me right under the damn bus.” Karen laughed at him. “Lieberman’s gonna put together a presentation for Zach: How Not to Get a Girl, starring Frank Castle. He will make me watch it, mark my words.” Her cackle was balm enough for all of the impending irritation on that front. 

 

“I don’t know,” she said when she settled, “it did make an impression.” 

 

He shook his head, “Yeah I should write a self-help book or somethin’, I’d make millions.” 

 

Karen swatted at him, still laughing. “C’mon you can’t be  _ that _ bad. You did take Sarah flowers.” 

 

“Good  _ lord _ , forget a thing every once in a while, will you?” 

 

“Not a chance.” 

 

“Never catch a break from you women, I swear.” 

 

“Well, what about Maria?” 

 

He cleared his throat. “What about her?” 

 

“How did you meet her? Obviously whatever you did worked.” 

 

He chuckled ruefully at that, remembering, remembering what he’d told Micro about it too. Funny how things worked out. 

 

“We met at a park. She teased the shit outta me. Got pregnant with Lisa three months later.” 

 

Karen’s smile faded a little. “I didn’t know that.” 

 

“Yeah,” he shifted his weight in the seat. He’d felt the judgment a time or two before on that front, but he wasn’t feeling it from Karen. He knew the difference. “Didn’t even have to think about it. Just worked.” 

 

Her hand was back on him, but it slid into his instead of resting on his arm. A stupidly immense relief given their lack of contact all evening. 

 

“I remember this one time,” she said softly, “we were ten, and Kevin was so mad at me. I can’t even remember why, but he wouldn’t look at me during dinner. We were completely silent, but somehow by the end of it, we’d made up. Without saying anything, barely looking at each other.” She shook her head. “My dad always said we were so in sync that we didn’t need to talk. Just had to be near each other. Never thought I’d feel like that again after he died.” 

 

Karen had yet to tell him how Kevin Page had died at 16. He could have had David dig into it, get all the facts, but he’d refrained. She deserved to have some secrets to herself. She cleared her throat, looking away from him fully.

 

“I just mean that I get it. You know? You don’t have to explain that to me.” 

 

Frank frowned, officially lost.

 

“Explain what?” 

 

“You know, just...everything. I understand. I--you don’t owe me anything.” 

 

“Karen,” he started slowly. 

 

“I mean, obviously I appreciate it, you inviting me to dinner. They really seem to care about you, so I’m glad I got to meet them. Even if it was to get Leo off your case. She’s a great kid.” 

 

Frank’s brain whirred loud enough to thrum in his ears while he tried to catch up with her train of thought. It seemed to be going forward without breaks toward a burning bridge. There were warning lights flashing in his head, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. 

 

“What I mean to say if that you don’t need to...go out of your way on my account. Like out of guilt or obligation or whatever.” 

 

His mind came to a crashing halt. 

 

“You think I invited you because I felt obligated?” 

 

“Well, no, you wouldn’t see it that way--” 

 

“Leo asked,” he emphasized, “that doesn’t mean I needed to say yes.” 

 

“But you’d do--”

 

He held a hand up to stop her. “I would do anything for that kid. But if I’d thought for a  _ second _ it was out of bounds or made you uncomfortable, I would have shot it down immediately. Were you uncomfortable?”

 

“No, of course not!” 

 

“Okay so then what are we talking about here, Karen? Cause I’m lost.” 

 

She flopped back against the seat and heaved a sigh, not looking at him. So he tugged on her hand, which was still firmly encased in his to get her attention back on him. She looked reluctant and flustered now, which was new. Wasn’t like her to hold back her thoughts from him on most accounts. 

 

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me. I’m...I’m not your responsibility.” 

 

Frank let his eyes dart over her face, trying to figure out where this was coming from, what the hell she was even on about. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she was trying to say to him. Not his responsibility? In what world--? He looked her square in the eye. 

 

“ _ Of course _ you are.” She tossed her head away. “Look at me, damn it!” She did, inhaling sharply. “Of course you are,” he repeated, hoping she heard it this time. “I’ll protect that family like they’re my blood, do whatever I have to, but Karen--you…” The words didn’t seem to want to come out, but her eyes widened a little regardless. He shook his head. “Shit, I can’t believe I even have to say it.” 

 

He didn’t. 

 

Well, Karen didn’t let him.  

 

She was leaning across the seat before he knew exactly what was happening, her hand on his face, and lips pressing against his. The contact must have tripped a wire in his brain because his physical response was automatic. He kissed her back, hand reaching for her waist to keep her steady. Her lips were warm and sure against his, dragging and tugging. Frank had to stop himself from ripping off her seatbelt and pulling her into his lap. 

 

“Karen--” he breathed around her kiss. She pressed sweet, little pecks to his lips, drawing it out before she pulled back just enough to get some air. She kept their foreheads pressed together though, slid her hand down to his neck. 

 

“What did Leo say to you before we left?” 

 

“Huh?” 

 

She laughed and kissed the corner of his mouth. “Leo said something to you before we got in the truck. What she say?” 

 

Frank kissed her again, sliding his tongue against her lips and then into her mouth, getting his fix before answering that question. Her fingers clenched his hair tight, tugging him toward her. She whined he stopped. 

 

“Told me to bring you to her play or I couldn’t go.” 

 

“What?” she spluttered between laughs. “Why?” 

 

He groaned and lolled his head back. “Because she thinks you’re my girlfriend, that’s why. Also why she demanded to meet you.” He grimaced at the bright, teasing smile on her face.

 

“You told her I was your girlfriend?”

 

“ _ No _ . Sarah did.” 

 

“You didn’t correct her,” she teased. He glared at her incredulously. 

 

“Have you tried changing that kid’s mind? Jesus.” 

 

“Not buying it,” she shot back primly. 

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” he whined. “Haven’t I had enough yet?” 

 

She grabbed his collar and tugged his face back to hers, catching his lips in a thorough kiss, that left him revved up and ready to beg. Her teeth bit lightly at his lip and she soothed it with her tongue before unfurling it into his mouth for him to suck. 

 

“Not yet,” she said breathlessly. And fuck, if he didn’t want to hear that tone from her again. Wanted to pull it out of her with hands, lips, and teeth until the tables had turned. He had to slow her down when she attacked his mouth again, hands catching her and steadying her by the waist.

 

“Let’s-- _ mmph _ , fuck. Not here-- _ Karen _ \--” She had his face between her hands, drinking deeply. Somehow, she’d lost her seatbelt, and it was going to escalate if he didn’t move quickly. One last taste, and he forcibly put her back in her seat. He held up a finger between them. “Not. Here.” 

 

Karen looked ravished. Her hair a little loose, lips bruised, cheeks flushed. She pulled her lips in, chest heaving to take in air, flashed her eyes at him, and then got out of the car. She started to shut the door, then opened it again. 

 

“Comin’?” 

 

She quirked her brows at him and shut the door before he could respond. Then he was moving faster than his brain could process, pants already way too tight for a handful of kisses fully clothed. He had to run, but he made it to her building door while she was still punching in her code. Slid his arms around her waist, fingers slipping up under her blouse, placed an open-mouthed kiss on the curve of her neck. He heard her sigh.

 

“How is this better than the truck?” 

 

“Better hurry up, then,” he rumbled. She jerked the door open and turned to tug him through by the jacket. He double-stepped to crowd her through, just long enough to get her to the elevator door before he slapped the up button. Used the width of his arms to trap her against the wall, held firm for her to wrap herself around him, take control of the kiss and tangle their tongues. She used and teased him, hands sliding up and down his back and chest, inside his jacket, nails dragging against his shirt. 

 

The elevator dinged, and he braced his arms around her waist, lifted and spun her, making her squeal and cling to him. He walked her to the corner of the elevator, hardly noticing that she’d hit the button for her floor. Frank didn’t really care. They kissed furiously, her hands in his hair, legs lifting to wrap around his waist. He shoved her against the wall with a growl and latched into her neck, laving her pulse point with his tongue before nipping at the line of her tendon. Her hips lifted against him, seeking friction. It put pressure on his dick that had him hissing and biting down on her shoulder. 

 

The elevator dinged again and she tugged at his hair until he let her drop. She walked past him to get out, snagging his hand as she went. She rolled her hips as she walked, and Frank couldn’t take his eyes off her ass. That’s what he grabbed at as she tried to unlock the door, making her giggle. 

 

“Not helping,” she sighed. 

 

“Gimme,” he growled, snatching the keys from her hand. She twisted in his arms, kissing his face and neck, snaking her tongue into his ear. Frank had one hand clamped on her ass, squeezing, and used the other to unlock the door. It took a minute, too, because there were so fucking many, and she had a different key for every single one. 

 

They all but fell through the door when he pushed it open. He kicked it closed and locked every damn one of those locks. Because it wouldn’t do to have his woman worried. A real primal wave of possessiveness surged up in him.  _ His _ . Karen was his. Her words came tumbling back down on his head as they tried to strip each other of their clothes, get to her bed, keep their mouths together.  _ I’m not your responsibility _ . Fuck that. She was his  _ only _ responsibility. And as his only responsibility, he needed her naked and under him so he could show her properly. So he could show her just how seriously he was going to take that responsibility from now on. 

 

*

 

He didn’t get it. That was one of the many thoughts that flashed through Karen Page’s mind as Frank Castle made love to her that night. He didn’t know how far she was willing to go, what she was willing to sacrifice for him. 

 

She would have sacrificed a man in her bed. 

 

She would have sacrificed touching him.

 

She would have sacrificed the hope of ever kissing him, being held by him, would have spent her life alone, protecting him, his identity, his memories, just to keep him close to her. In whatever capacity he needed. There had been a brief moment in the truck when she thought she’d lose him for good. She couldn’t resist, though, couldn’t stop herself from reaching out and kissing him when he’d almost said it. He’d almost said it, but she wouldn’t let him because she knew he wasn’t ready to accept it yet. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Didn’t matter. She’d taken a chance and went for it. 

 

All the better for her. 

 

Now he fucked into her like an animal, like he was born to do it. One arm bracketed under her head, one squeezing her ass with every stroke. He kissed her hot and sloppy when she dragged her nails along his back. 

 

“God, you feel so good,” she crooned in his ear, hands working his muscles, “Fuck!” she growled when he snapped his hips harder than before. “Just like that.” 

 

“Yeah?” he panted in her ear, lips moving over the outer shell. 

 

“Yeah,” she bore down on him, “Fuck me, Punisher.” 

 

He stilled before his hands gripped her so tight it would certainly bruise.

 

“Karen,” his voice was low and gravelly, like he could barely get the words out. He lifted slightly to look at her. Karen smoothed her hands up his back to his neck, and cupped his face. She pressed forward to nuzzle against his lips and brush their noses together. It felt far more raw and needy than anything else they’d done thus far. 

 

“C’mon, love,” she cooed against his lips. “Let go, let go.” 

 

As usual, Frank Castle did just as she asked. He repositioned himself, adjusting their angle, and thrust brutally hard into her. She hissed out a  _ perfect _ and he dropped a kiss to her forehead before picking up the pace, pushing her up along the bed with every thrust. She couldn’t help the sounds escaping her mouth, the filthy praise. She didn’t even care how loud she got, not now. Not when she finally had him here with her.  _ Staying _ , she thought viciously. 

 

Her body clenched around him, tightening so hard that she shrieked on the release, let her eyes roll back as it flooded her system. 

 

Even then, even then, she made a promise. She was going to love and protect him, watch over him, guard him against every damn thing imaginable. Not just for him. For Maria. For the kids. For all of them. 

 

Someone had to take care of the Punisher, and Karen Page was more than willing. 

  
  
  



End file.
